


Wedding Gift

by Westbrook



Series: The Continuing Adventures of Ivan and Tej Vorpatril [1]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westbrook/pseuds/Westbrook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before departing for Ylla, Ivan receives a most unique and unusual present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in the Vorkosigan 'verse, so please be gentle.
> 
> This is slightly AU, in the fact that in CVA, Ivan and Tej were given a day to get out of town. Here, they've been given two, and this takes place on the second day.
> 
> Ivan Vorpatril, Tej Vorpatril, and all other associated characters within the Vorkosigan Saga are rightfully the property of Lois McMaster Bujold, who is a much better writer than I ever shall be. I own nothing, please don't set the lawyers on me!

Captain Lord Ivan Vorpatril was staring at his bed (And his wife, stretched out oh so snuggably on said bed for a brief nap) with a longing so intense it might be illegal when the comconsole chimed. 

_Now who the hell could that be, and is it worth answering the com to talk to them?_ Ivan wondered blearily, staring at the thing through a haze of exhaustion. He and Tej had been in a whirlwind of business since their meeting with Gregor yesterday, wrapping up various details in the capital for their trip/exile to Ylla (Hell, according to Gregor, apparently even the ImpSec Galactic Affairs office hadn't known exactly where the place was, and the officer who had put the briefing together had asked "Where in the name of Yuri's gallbladder is that?" The briefing was put together of course, but with the current...chaos at ImpSec-Which was not Ivan's fault, as he would continually and loudly insist to anyone who would listen-it was done with a maximum of grumbling).

Gregor had been kind enough to give them two days in which to put certain details in orders, but he was insistent that they could stay no longer than that. Ivan and Tej had spent much of their first day packing up clothes and personal items to be taken to Ylla with them, in addition to....marking territory, was the best way Ivan could describe it, over the apartment, as Tej had stated "We won't have the chance for this place any more, why not?" It had proven intensely distracting, especially in the midst of packing, but never let it be said that even such a thing as dire as exile stopped Ivan Vorpatril from doing his marital duties!

Ivan's thoughts were still pleasantly occupied with thoughts of Tej and the fast and dirty on the balcony when the comconsole's chimes reentered his attention. "Yes, alright, damned annoying thing," Ivan grumbled, reluctantly walking over to the vid plate and punching it on to reveal the face of Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, who, in what Ivan had to describe as an astronomically rare event, was _grinning_. It was a grin that reminded Ivan of Miles, and considering that the last time Ivan had seen Gregor, he was in effect exiling him, Ivan had to work to swallow the instinctive combination of whimper and "I won't do it!" that that particular grin evoked. 

"Ah Ivan, about time. I know you're busy, but I need you to come down to the Residence right away." "Now, Sire?" (It was definitely Sire and not Gregor this time) Ivan blurted out in a combination of whine and annoyance. "Yes Ivan, now." Gregor stated patiently. "I don't know if you've noticed Sire, but I'm a little bit busy at the moment," Ivan replied peevishly. Gregor's smile dimmed a bit and his eyebrow flicked up, suddenly more Imperial, and Ivan hastily realized that he might have overstepped just a little with that response. He quickly mumbled "Sorry." Gregor's lips twitched sardonically, before he said, "Lord Ivan. I realize that you may have some other concerns, but you are requested and required to attend to me at the Residence. You have half an hour to make yourself presentable for a conference at the Residence, where a driver will be waiting to take you here and back. Oh, and wear your Vorpatril House uniform." "What?" Surprisingly, it was the last of these that was the most shocking-Ivan did indeed possess a blue-and-gold Vorpatril House costume, but he had worn it only at the most formal of occasions; he was much more comfortable and used to his varied military uniforms or civvies. Gregor's smile gained an enigmatic quality. "Just do as I say Ivan, and everything will become clear. Half an hour." 

With that, and a clear sense of Imperial prerogative, Gregor cut the com, leaving Ivan staring at nothing. He briefly contemplated ditch digging as a pleasant, non-Imperially involved alternative career, before the sudden and horrifying realization that with ImpSec currently buried underground, ditch diggers with military experience would be at a premium, and as someone who would be blamed for starting the whole mess, Ivan would be drafted first to clean up. 

Suddenly, a planet on the other side of the nexus several wormhole jumps from a sank ImpSec didn't seem so bad. 

Ivan went to shower and get his uniform. 

 

Tej was still asleep when Ivan finished with his shower, and stayed that way as he hunted up his Vorpatril cadet uniform and the decorations attending it. It was only after Ivan was fully dressed that he woke his wife. "Ivan Xav?" Tej murmured, reacting to his voice and his hand on her shoulder, stretching in the most distracting manner, sounding soft and warm and happy. "You smell good." Tej's eyes were a dull gold as she sleepily glanced at Ivan, before they suddenly brightened with interest and she sat up suddenly, staring at him. "Oh my...." Tej breathed, her tongue flicking out over her lips in an unmistakably hungry gesture. 

The Vorpatril House uniform had been tailored by his mother and her minions (Mamere never missed a trick when it came to fashion and fit) to Ivan's current specifications and status in the last year, including all of his rank tabs and medals. It wasn't as ostentatious or formal as the uniforms granted to the Count and Lord Vorpatril-his-heir, but with Mamere in charge, it clearly stated that Ivan was a member of House Vorpatril and deserved the respect required, if not of him personally, then of his House. Tej had never seen him in anything aside from civvies or his greens, and her eyes roamed him with interest, appreciation and a definite sense of desire. Ivan now knew what it felt like to be a steak, and found that he didn't really mind. "Ivan Xav, you look fantastic, all wrapped up like a present," Tej purred. "I'd love to unwrap you."  
There wasn't a sweeter honey on Barrayar than Tej's voice at that moment, and it required all of Ivan's military and personal discipline to not jump into bed and spend the next half an hour rolling with Tej, Gregor and his request and require be damned!

Ivan managed to resist-barely-though it took him a few attempts before he stated hoarsely "Um....Gregor wants to see me at the Residence-requested and required-in this uniform in about," he checked the clock, "14 minutes." Tej's expression immediately flashed to concern. "Did he say what for?" Ivan shook his head. "Only that he wants me there, and he was in a surprisingly good mood for Gregor."

Tej quirked an eyebrow at this, and Ivan shrugged in response. It would take more than 14 minutes to explain Gregor and his attitudes to Tej, especially if those 14 minutes could be put to good use doing other things. Tej yawned and stretched, arching her back to put her arms behind her head.  
Things....like...packing....  
Tej caught sight of Ivan's glazed gaze, and grinned, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus Ivan Xav." Ivan started, his gaze turning to Tej's smiling face. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you do not have the time. You must visit the Gregor."

"What did you just call him?"

"What?" "What did you just call him?" Ivan repeated. "Who? Oh, the Gregor!" "You did it again!" "Did what?" "You called Gregor 'the Gregor,' why are you doing that?" "Oh that," Tej sighed, waving her hand as though to shoo the problem away. "Well, you addressed him so informally, just calling him Gregor, instead of the Emperor or His Highness or even Emperor Gregor, like it was nothing that you could call him by his name. And I don't think I can think of him as Gregor, so I suppose I just renamed him as the Gregor in my head." Tej looked puzzled. "Was that wrong?"

Ivan stared at his Jacksonian wife for a good thirty seconds before he sat down hard on the bed. He buried his head in his hands, and thought for a moment before replying "Not exactly." Ivan sighed, and turned slightly, pulling Tej into his arms. "It's okay that you call Gregor," he choked a little, "the Gregor in private here with me. Hell, it might be okay with him, but make sure to ask him in private before you call him that. And among family, it's probably good as well. The phrase just...caught me by surprise. I've never heard it put quite like that before." 

Tej said "Oh," and was silent. "Can I still call Miles the Coz?"  
Ivan managed to choke and laugh at the same time. "What?!" he gasped out when he managed to breathe again. "Well, you called him your cousin, but then I looked him up and saw how important he was, and his job as Lord Auditor looked kind of alarming, but then we met him and he was so nice and so I started out by calling him the Lord Auditor Coz and then he just became the Coz." 

Ivan stared at Tej for a moment, before bursting out into laughter, falling back to lie on the bed and roll in joy. It was at least a minute before he was able to speak again, and even then a chuckle threatened to emerge from his throat. "Oh that's brilliant Tej. I want you to tell Miles that, in exactly that way, and I want to be there when you do." Tej glared at him. "You just want to laugh at him." "Well yes," Ivan admitted. "But Miles needs to be laughed at every once in awhile, it deflates his ego, keeps him human. Stops him from trying to take over the Nexus with nothing but his own insanity, twine and whatever poor innocent bystanders he can rope into supporting his delusions." Tej grinned at this, and snuggled closer to Ivan, who indulged himself by snuggling back. This might have gone past demure snuggling until Tej got a look at the clock and bolted up straight-Not easy to do when in someone's arms and on their lap-saying "Ivan Xav! You have seven minutes to be ready, and we've made your lovely uniform crinkled. Up!" Ivan groaned, but stood up anyways, as Tej busied herself straightening the minor wrinkles and creases that had marred the fabric, and hey, if a little light petting went on, Ivan wasn't going to mention that to anyone.

Finally Tej straightened, and after smoothing out his collar, declared him perfectly fit to meet with the Emperor of Barrayar. Ivan grinned at her, and as they headed toward the door, Tej asked, "What do you suppose the Gregor wants to talk about?" Ivan shrugged. "Don't know. Probably sending us to the ass end of the galaxy."  
Suddenly guilty, Ivan swung to face Tej. "About this posting, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I never intended for this to happen, and though I can understand why I'm being sentenced to the galactic equivalent of Kyril Island, I don't get why you are. But you really didn't do anything wrong, and so I can understand why-" Tej shut him up by kissing him. After she pulled away, she kept her arms wrapped around his neck, staring right into his eyes. "Ivan Xav Vorpatril, I swore to love and honor you for the whole of my life, however long it may be. Whether that is on Komarr, Barrayar, Cetaganda, Jackson's Whole or Ylla, it doesn't matter, as long as I have _you_. I will hold up my end of the Deal, as Baroness Arqua, and I do so swear by my word as Vorpatril." Ivan could only stare at her in astonishment and love, eyes glowing with such tenderness, before wrapping her in a hug that he felt like never ending. Tej hugged him back, equally as hard. 

Ivan's voice was slight quavery as he whispered into his wife's hair, "To the ends of the bunker, Lady Vorpatril?" Tej looked up at him with a smile. "To the ends of the bunker, Lord Vorpatril," she said back as their lips moved together.

 

5 minutes later, Ivan Vorpatril strode down to meet the Imperial groundcar and whatever doom awaited him with a grin, whistling all the way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this chapter got even more bloated, but this particular story is done. I am, however, considering transforming this into a series of some kind. 
> 
> Also, furthering editing can almost definitely be expected on this. As it stands now, it feels....a bit disjointed, somehow, like something's missing. If I figure out what it is, I will certainly address it.

The Imperial aircar swooped to the ground with exquisite smoothness, where a household servant in Vorbarra livery was waiting to open the door for Ivan, who quickly trotted into the Residence. He paused for the ImpSec security to scan him-Ivan was convinced that the Residence guards were required to have all feelings except for paranoia and grimness removed surgically before beginning their job-and then followed Gregor’s batman into his private office.

However, upon entering Gregor’s office, Ivan stopped dead away, and not only wished thoroughly that he had never come, but also that he had been born onto a planet which had never even heard of Barrayar.

Sitting in the office was not just Gregor, dressed in his own Vorbarra house colors of black and silver, behind his desk, but his mother, dressed in a sweeping gown of blue with gold accents-Vorpatril colors-and Count Falco Vorpatril, in his own ornate house uniform, both drinking tea from the Emperor’s personal china. Simon sat next to Mamere, in a dark suit that complimented hers without any pretensions to Vor. 

Those four were bad enough, but also present was Duv Galeni, who looked about as relaxed as Duv could look in dress greens and the company of the Emperor, talking quietly with Simon, Professora Helen Vorthys, Miles’ aunt-in-law and (Oh God what had he done wrong?!) Vann Vorgustafson, dressed in an utterly hideous _lemon-yellow_ shirt and brown trousers, who in addition to being one of the wealthiest men on Barrayar was one of Gregor’s eight Imperial Auditors, who was chatting amiably with the Professora. As Ivan stuttered to a halt, all fourteen eyes turned to stare at him.

Mamere and Gregor both smiled at him, smiles that looked happy, but under the circumstances they were the kind of smile that filled Ivan with existential dread on a Milesian level.  
“Ah, Captain Vorpatril. Thank you for joining us,” Gregor’s voice managed to pierce the fog of terror that had rushed into Ivan’s brain.  
“Please have a seat." 

Ivan managed not to whimper-It was a close thing-and stiff-legged his way to the open chair that Gregor indicated. Collapsing into it, Ivan glanced at Gregor, with what he considered admirable control. 

Gregor turned to look at him-as did everyone else-with that damn smile flicked at the edges of his mouth. "Lord Vorpatril. It occurred to Us," the Imperial Us, oh this was bad, "That you should be rewarded for your recent actions. In considering what form your reward should take, much thought was given, and We (How did Gregor do that, managing to make it clear that the w in that We was capitalized?) believe that a suitable reward has been discovered." Ivan gulped, which caused Falco to snicker. Gregor's smile stretched lightly, and he reached over to tap a button on his desk. Apparently, this was a signal, as a door opened, and two servants came in, bearing a large wooden box. 

Ivan's eyes widened with shock. It was the box of seal daggers he had dragged up from the bunker, and as the two servants flipped open the box, revealing the gleaming collection of blades, Ivan felt the entire room lean forward to look at them.  
Gregor himself reached into the box, and starting lifting out layers, revealing all sixty blades, before he selected one himself. By the look on his face, Ivan thought it was-Yes, there was the seal, the Vorbarra coat of arms on the bottom. Who knows who might have owned that dagger before? Dorca the Just, perhaps?  
Gregor flipped the dagger through his fingers once, before setting it to the side and turning his full attention back to the room. "Most of you will not be aware of this, but during the Time of Isolation, the Emperor Viktor Vorbarra, in the first and only year of his reign, managed to pass a law allowing him to seize the property of any of his citizens 'for the good of the Imperium.' Why the Counts ever agreed to this idea is beyond me, though the Professora has speculated that the Counts of that time believed that they were immune to this type of law, and that the Emperor would only use it on the proles. They were mistaken. Viktor only reigned for a year mainly because his Counts turned on him and killed him when he tried to use this ability on the Counts themselves later. The law was never taken off of the books, though it was for the most part thankfully forgotten. Professora Vorthys and Commodore Galeni have done an excellent job in uncovering the law," a brief nod to the two historians, "and determining how it may be of use in a modern day sense." 

Gregor leaned forward. "It is under these auspices that I am claiming the contents of the bunker for the good of the Imperium, and in a personal sense, these daggers."  
Lord Auditor Vorgustafson chuckled. "The Council of Counts won't like that at all," he opined. "Then they will suffer the consequences of not receiving their respective District's daggers when and if I decide to release them," Gregor replied calmly.  
There was a stunned silence, before Vorgustafson's bark of laughter broke it, Simon grinned slightly and even Falco let out a slight chuckle. Ivan's head spun. Gregor, by claiming the blades as Imperial property, was effectively holding them as bribes-or hostages-to the good behavior of the Counts. The carrot and the stick, the stick being the release of the daggers as Imperial prerogative. If a particular Count had annoyed Gregor, it would be entirely likely that he would never receive a seal dagger, or even worse, it might be sold on the open market, and what Count would argue, since the profit of the daggers would undoubtedly be put to some good within the Imperium (Most likely to some project the Count personally supported, or in the inverse, would never support). It was an excellent piece of political theater.  
But it still didn't explain why Ivan was here. 

Gregor rocked back in his chair. "I've asked Lord Vann to be here on a number of levels. He is a financial expert, and capable of market pricing the blades themselves, as an Auditor, he is an impeccable witness, and finally he owns a seal dagger himself."  
Heads swiveled toward the industrialist, who shrugged. "Count Vortaine sold his a few years ago to finance some new developments in his District. He asked me to buy first, at fair market value. I did so, not ever likely to see another offer like that come up again, and after using it for a few months and finding it horribly ostentatious ( _An unusual sentiment coming from man with that color sense,_ Ivan snarked mentally), I loaned it to a museum." Vorgustafson smiled. "Vortaine didn't like that part, but the fact that there is a brand-new research centerin his District that the dagger helped pay for certainly soothed any hurt feelings. Money buys all cures." He grinned at this last part, even though Mamere sniffed slightly. 

Gregor smiled a little at this interplay. "Vann, what is the going rate for a Time of Isolation seal dagger in mint condition with provenance on the open market?"  
The Auditor shrugged. "At this moment, I would say around one hundred and seventy five thousand marks, and that's probably on the higher side."  
A brief silence followed this pronouncement, the silence of people contemplating a very large amount of money*, although Ivan thought that Duv and the Professora were contemplating the historical value of the pieces more than the monetary. Multiply that by sixty....

Gregor shook his head, dispelling the shadow of the money. "As that may be, there is a reason I called you down here Ivan."  
Startled back into reality by the focus of the Emperor, Ivan tried to shrink into his chair. "So I can get yelled at some more?" "No, though if anyone would like to, the opportunity is now," Gregor stated looking around the room, and although Falco looked like he might be considering it, no one said anything. Gregor then turned back to Ivan, saying, "Captain Vorpatril. For discovering the bunker, and the contents therein, all of which provide value to the Imperium on a number of levels, We have decided to give you a gift. Stand please."

Swallowing, Ivan did so, as Gregor glanced at the daggers again, selecting one and standing, extending his hand to Ivan. "Lord Ivan Xav Vorpatril, as a reward for a job well done, I, Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, am pleased to present you with this dagger, marked with the crest of House Vorpatril, for your personal use, as a vassal secundus to me and my Empire. Carry it well."  
Stunned, Ivan felt his hands move to automatically take the blade from Gregor's proffered hand, feeling though as he were standing outside of his body.

He stared down at the blade in his hands, turning it over once before looking back up. Inexplicably, his gaze was drawn to his mother. "I-I-I-I can't take this," Ivan stuttered. He was at a loss as he had never been before in his life. "I haven't earned it."  
Lady Alys smiled, a soft, sad thing, and stood up, automatically smoothing out her dress before crossing to him. "Ivan," she said, extending her hands to take his (including the dagger), "despite whatever anyone may have said, you are not an idiot. Not just now, but for a long time, you have done excellent work, and you are fully deserving of what awards you receive." She smiled at him wistfully, 

Ivan goggled-Mamere was many things, but oddly sentimental could never be considered one of them. She kissed him lightly on the cheek before moving to sit down-an act all of the other observers studiously ignored-while Ivan turned to Count Falco.  
"Why am I getting this? Shouldn't you take it?" "Ivan my boy, I-or the Vorpatrils, one and the same in this case-have already got one." Falco then proceeded to pull out a brother to the piece Ivan held in his hand. Some of the details were slightly different-A different craftsman perhaps?-but for the most part the two were the same. "Besides," and here Falco glanced slyly at Gregor, "I've been given some other considerations in exchange for not making a fuss over it. In any case," Falco was now smiling and it was all teeth, "consider it my wedding gift to you." 

Ivan gulped at that one which caused a light chuckle around the room, before turning to look at Gregor one last time, who nodded. "It's yours Ivan, now and forever." Mamere, holding Simon's hand, spoke softly, "For what it's worth Ivan, I think that your father would be proud of you." 

Slowly, and with great reverence, Ivan Vorpatril slid the blade of his into his belt. He considered it for a moment, before asking one simple question:

"I wonder what Miles is going to think?"

*-It's a very special kind of silence, and a main reason for explaining why banks tend to be so hushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little end bit, with Falco, Ivan and Gregor? Yeah, that was supposed to be the original fic.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to do paragraph breaks on here, so my apologies for the big gaps.
> 
> Also, this was originally supposed to be a short, simple fic about Ivan getting a gift, which managed to transmute itself into this now two-chaptered beast. I was shooting for about 500 words, and ended up with this.


End file.
